


First Execution

by OceanicBae



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27388534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OceanicBae/pseuds/OceanicBae
Summary: The crown prince doles out his first Execution.





	First Execution

First Execution  
Time:33076  
Characters: King Kai, Ronan, Siheya

“It’s time.” His father’s voice was devoid of emotion as he placed his hand on Ronan’s shoulder. He began firmly steering his son towards the dungeons. They descended flight after flight of stairs, their path lit by meager crystal light. When his father’s face was briefly illuminated, Ronan attempted to read it, only to be met with a grim scowl before darkness’s shroud fell again.

His heart sank. He was everything his father had wanted; a son, an heir who would rule in his place one day. But his birth had not done the thing his father wanted most. His mother, the queen, was still distant, evasive to the king, as though she could slip away any moment. In that respect, he had failed his father.

Ronan’s mother had tried to love her son. She taught him about flowers, how to be gentle to living things, she sang songs from her home. But he saw it. The look of fury, of disgust that time to time crossed her face when she thought he wasn’t looking. It was more apparent as he grew to look more and more like…him. 

“We’re here.” His father’s grip was like a vice as he pushed his son forward into a large empty area of the dungeons. The room was bereft of most things, a table and a large book with crossed out names graced a far wall. But it was the small details that gave the room away: a large block of stone and a drain not far from it. This was where men came to die.

His father let go of him, and went to stand next to a man dressed in royal livery holding a large axe. Ronan began to feel sick as he heard sounds coming towards the room. The sound became words as two more guards dragged a man into the room.  
“P-please. I didn’t mean it. It was a drunken boast!” The man cried as he was forced to his knees in front of the block. And ugly bruise forced one of the man’s eyes closed, one leg dragged behind him, badly burnt. Ronan flinched at his father’s handiwork.

His father began to speak.  
“You see, Ronan, a kingdom has enemies. This man has threatened the royal family. Many an Assassination has been planned in the back rooms of bars. Kindness will be seen as weakness, regardless of its intentions.” 

He watched as his father took the axe from the guard. He brought it over and placed it in his son’s hands. Ronan barely avoided staggering under the Axe’s weight. He walked with his father until he was staring down at the prisoner. His father backed away a few paces as one of the guards grabbed the man by the hair, forcing his neck flush against the chopping block. The man twisted so he was looking up at Ronan.

“Please. Please. I have a family. They’ll miss me. Wouldn’t you miss your father?”

Ronan swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He gripped the axe, it’s obsidian blade glinting. The man spoke again, yelling now.

“Please! You don’t have to be like him! You’ll be king! You could be a good king, a just, merciful ki-“

A wooshing sound filled Ronan’s ears as the axe dropped. A jarring feeling went up his arms as the axe hit spine. He was suddenly damp, and warm. He heaved a shuddering breath, staring down at his blood splattered clothes, avoiding looking at the corpse. He felt a sick sense of relief that it was over, he didn’t have to swing again. 

A hand came down on his shoulders. He tensed up, dropping the axe. His father turned him around, pulling him into a one armed hug, an unusual display of affection.   
“Good job. It’s alright. The first one is always hard. But don’t cry in front of your people.”   
With those words, his father guided him out of the dungeon. Once they were back in the great hall, his father clapped him on the back and headed towards the throne room. 

Once his father was out of sight, a soft voice called out to him. He turned to see his mother standing a few paces away, her jewelry shining in the fading sunlight filtering through the windows. Her concerned look turned to shock as she realized he was covered in blood. Upon seeing her, his eyes watered and warm tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Mom!” He held out his arms and came towards her, seeking comfort. But as his hands brushed her arms, he felt her twist away from him. He looked up, startled. She didn’t hide the look of disappointment, of rejection, her face cold. It was a look she usually reserved for his father. He realized it was too late. The similarities were too close now. Any attempts of hers to love him were in vain. She turned away without a word, leaving him alone in the hall.

He quietly stole away to his room, scarcely closing the door before sinking to the floor, stifling sobs.


End file.
